


These Orbs Of Light And Shade

by mansikka



Series: Shade Falls On Us [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV Alec, References to Addiction, Sick Alec Lightwood, Worried Jace Wayland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Now that Alec has some idea of what he has to expect, he's trying to find his way back to as much normality as he can.With Magnus gone in search of something that's going to hopefully help him, an alarming sense of need for something unknown is building for Alec. He tries to keep himself busy to forget about it, but ends up wearing himself out.Cue a visit from Jace, who not only expresses his concern for what is happening to Alec, but also is the bearer of bad news about that normality Alec is hoping to return to.





	These Orbs Of Light And Shade

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :) as per the tags, we start to hear about the beginnings of something like an addiction, just to give you a headsup xx

It’s already happening, Alec thinks, the truth of Magnus’ words sitting heavy on his chest as the knawing urge that's become too familiar singes its way through his veins leaving him desperate for _something_. There’s a second when he considers talking to Simon, wondering if it might feel anything like the same thing that happened to him. But then the thought’s gone, replaced with a snort of derision, because he can’t ever imagine becoming anything like _that_.  

He _won’t_ become like that, Alec thinks to himself, determined, adamant, bolstered by the conviction in Magnus’ words. What he will become still remains to be seen, however. It’s been a week since the truth was laid out for him, and Alec still doesn’t think the reality of it all is sinking in.  

Alec thinks of Izzy then, how she didn’t have anyone to help with her addiction, yet still found the strength to battle her way through. He just needs to be strong like Izzy, Alec thinks, squaring his shoulders, then immediately dropping them again for the residual guilt he feels for allowing her to go through so much of her yin fen withdrawal alone.

Can he even get withdrawal from this… Odzer venom? What will that look like? Shaking and haunted-looking like Izzy had seemed to him at her very worst—and he’d not even been around for the true escalation of her problems? Will he be out of his mind with need for the venom, so blinded by it that he loses all sense of himself?  

 _I won’t_ , he argues with himself, determined even if he’s got no foundation for understanding how an addiction might get its claws into him. It hasn't done much to him so far, Alec reasons to himself, other than leave him with this restless yearning sensation for  _something_ that means one minute he's staring off into the distance as though that might help him seek it out, and the next he's ready to climb the walls to escape it. But unlike Izzy, he’s got a support network already in place even before this whole thing _really_ starts. People who will rally around him and help prop him up with whatever he needs. As much as they can, anyway; there’s one thing he’s going to need in all this that none of his friends or family can give him personally, and that’s the venom itself.

 _It isn’t really an addiction_ , Magnus had said to him, placating and gentle, as though that would make the words any easier to hear. Equating it to a Mundane suffering from diabetes needing insulin for the rest of their lives, Alec is sure was supposed to soften the blow of what’s going to become of him. It didn’t, though, not even a little bit.  

Not that this is Magnus’ fault.

Magnus, Alec thinks, with a deep sense of longing. In the security of his arms, wrapped up together on their couch, everything he was telling him had seemed so much less a burden. But now that he’s away somewhere, trying to locate some of these Odzer demons to harvest this venom he’s about to desperately need, everything seems impossible.  

Part of that is simply because he hates being away from Magnus, Alec smiles to himself ruefully; there’s nothing that could happen to him that will ever change anything about that.

Still, he thinks with a sigh, the bed was far too cold and empty to stay in without him. And he's got a feeling that in Magnus' absence, that need in him has grown stronger, simply because he's not got the distraction of Magnus' love. He wanders around the apartment just for something to do, feeling that need beginning to tick away at his center, and having no outlet to drive it away.

He’d go to the Institute and take it out on punch bag, Alec adds to himself with a still-disbelieving huff, but at the moment he’s not even permitted to do that.

Alec grimaces at the reminder, pretends he’s not currently worrying about his future there more than anything, but he can’t help it; this is his life’s purpose. It’s all he’s ever known, all he’s ever been. And to be told that, because he was wounded on a _mission_ , he may no longer be welcome in the place he once called a home, is… unsettling at the very least. Perhaps that he half-expected it is the worst thing about it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.

His parents haven’t bothered to speak to him yet, Alec adds with an eye roll no one’s there to witness; not that that’s much of a surprise either. He can’t imagine the fury his mother in particular will feel for what he’s let be done to himself—even though he shares no fault in this at all. There’s not even a part of him that’s upset they’ve not been in contact; gone is the Alec that used to pride himself in the duties he performed for his family and would lose sleep over any instance when he could not. His priorities have shifted; Jace, Izzy, Max, and Clary, will always feature high on that list, and they share that platform with Magnus, who’s quickly become the most important person in his world.

Magnus, he thinks again, still missing him terribly, even if it has only been a few hours. He still wants him home, and quickly—with or without the venom that’s about to change his very foundation.   

Alec draws his cell from his pocket, rereads the unanswered message waiting for him there from Jace, then fires off what’s probably a totally unnecessary _I love you_ to Magnus. Not unnecessary that he knows, because he never fails to find ways to tell him, but because he’s probably nowhere where there’s going to be phone reception. And it’s not like he didn’t already kiss it into every inch of him before leaving, Alec adds to himself, sighing and closing his eyes to the feel of Magnus still on him.

The need is rising in him, itching and twitching and coiling beneath the surface of his skin. It’s strange to want something he can’t identify, wouldn’t know even if he was looking at it. But then, Alec thinks, if he’s truly addicted, perhaps that addictive need would seek it out, recognize the venom when he could not.

It’s too tight in here, he thinks, pulling awkwardly at his shirt collar and beginning to pace in ever faster circles. Glancing out at the balcony frequently, debating with himself about going outside.  

The need for air, and free movement wins out.

Casting his stele over his runes and squaring his shoulders with determination, Alec ignores the fear beginning to pool in his gut, deciding to run as fast as his legs will carry him, see if he can’t pace this unpleasant feeling rising in him out.

* * *

“Magnus is gonna be so pissed at you,”

Alec groans, does his best to roll away from the condescending words Jace is spitting at him, but instead flails pathetically like a starfish against the sheets of the bed.

“ _I’m_ pissed at you,” Jace adds, and that makes Alec really groan. It’s bad enough knowing Jace is right, but at least Magnus’ anger for him is delayed a little by what he’s out trying to do for him—the reminder of which just makes Alec’s stomach drop and leaves him feeling even worse. But Jace is right there, towering over him by the foot of the bed, taking advantage of their reversal in height difference due to the fact Alec is flat out exhausted on his back.

“Yeah, well. Wouldn’t be the first time,”

“I’m serious,” Jace says, and Alec can feel the anger and concern bristling in him. He raises his head just enough to take in his disgruntled expression, then drops his head back down with a huff, idly concentrating on the feel of silk sheets brushing against the backs of his hands.

“Alec,” Jace says again, a little more anxious and a lot more exasperated, “we don’t know what this thing is gonna do to you. We don’t know—”

“Not like I’m gonna sprout horns,” Alec sighs, closing his eyes and wondering what that might be like to have spikes jutting out from his temples, “not like I wasn’t glamored away from Mundanes freaking out about a guy running through the streets. Not like _Mundanes_ don’t run through the streets every day themselves just ‘cos they feel like it—”

“Not at the speed we go,” Jace points out, and though it’s a fair point, Alec doesn’t want to hear it. Alec doesn’t know what he wants. He just wants this listless feeling that he’s got no hope of sating to leave him alone. “Alec—”

“What do you want me to say?” Alec demands then, irritable and tired—possibly more tired than anything, but his general sense of irritation is running hot.

“That you’ll… use that common sense you’re so keen on the Mundanes having,” Jace retorts, and if that’s not meant to goad him, Alec thinks, raising his head and one incredulous eyebrow before dropping back yet again.

“Not like I could work it out in our training room,” Alec sighs, grimacing at the petulance of his own tone.

“I know,” Jace agrees, soft, and tinged with guilt—not that he’s got anything to feel guilty about in all of this either. No one has, Alec sighs to himself, gritting his teeth and hauling himself up on trembling limbs until he’s sinking back against the headboard. “I just… I wish we could… we could _do_ something about that. About all of this,”

“You could… come spar with me here,” Alec laughs, and he’s mostly joking. But when Jace fires back an immediate, _anything_ , Alec forces himself to look up.

“Alec,” Jace says then, and Alec notices, possibly a little too late, that he too is hurting, “I hate seeing you like this. I hate that I can’t do anything. I—”

“Can you feel it?” Alec asks, having to turn his eyes away, that sickening feeling in his gut creeping out further for the thought that through their parabatai rune, Jace might be able to feel his despair.

“Not—not exactly,” Jace replies, and there’s hesitance enough to draw Alec’s eyes back again, “it’s more like… I can feel you need something. And you don’t know how to get it, or even what it is. It’s not bad—can’t be anything near what you’re feeling, but I… I know it’s there. And I hate it,”

“Maybe once Magnus gets back with this venom it’ll be different,” Alec sighs, riddled with guilt. His mind begins wandering to the things Magnus had said about the venom. That he’d track those Odzer demons down, milk them of their venom, synthesize it with his magic and Izzy’s lab knowledge, to come up with something he could take regularly that wouldn’t feel as intrusive as this need for the venom already feels.  

And that’s the easy part of it, Alec thinks, shaking away the other parts of their conversation, beyond not ready to be thinking about all of _that_.

“Maybe,” Jace agrees, though sounding doubtful.

“Maybe… maybe I’ll just need some time. To adjust to it. And then… maybe when they see I’m… normal, I’m still me, maybe I can… maybe I can come back,”

“What… what if you aren’t… what if you aren’t still _you?_ ” Jace asks after a long, long pause, and it’s the question Alec’s been repeatedly beating himself with ever since speaking with Magnus. Because there is no way of knowing. There’s no history here, no records for them to go by as a framework, no guidance that can give any of them any pointers on what to expect.

He’s alone in this, Alec thinks, and though he’s really not, for all the people and support he’s got around him, he really does feel that; horribly alone.

“I guess we’ll deal,” Alec sighs, shrugging as though it’s nothing. As though there’s not this giant noose hanging around his neck.

Alec curses himself for being melodramatic, and pinches over his eyes to fight back the images beginning to form there.

“Alec,” Jace says then, and the tone tenses Alec for something unpleasant. He raises his head, allowing his eyes to fix on Jace’s face, and braces for whatever he’s trying to tell him. “Maybe… maybe it’s a good thing. Being away from the Institute like this. You were… you were working yourself kinda hard,”

“Bit of a drastic measure to tell me I needed a break,” Alec retorts, and though there’s truth to Jace’s words, he doesn’t want to hear him.

“I know,” Jace agrees quickly, his eyes flickering in that way that plead with Alec to hear him out, “but… you’ve got bigger things to be thinking about than… than getting back to _work_ ,”

Addiction. Impossible choices. A world of uncertainties. Yes, Alec huffs to himself, he might have one or two things on his mind.

“I mean… nothing’s gonna change between us,” Jace adds even quicker, eyes flaring wide as though he fears Alec might misunderstand.

“You say that,” Alec smiles, and so help him if it’s a little bitter, “but like you said. We don’t know what’s gonna happen. We don’t even know—”

“We’re gonna be okay, Alec,” Jace says, urging him to hear him, “we are— _you_ are. We’re gonna get through this. And however this pans out, we’re—I’m gonna be here. I just… don’t push us away, okay? You’ve got… you’ve got… all of us in this,”

“I appreciate that,” Alec replies, because he does, he really does, and it’s even more comforting to hear it. But all he can currently picture is going out of his mind with this unquenchable need, being forever reliant on something that will forever change him. Or not being able to deal with any of it at all, and just—

“We’re here, Alec,” Jace says, breaking through those spiraling thoughts that Alec does not feel belong to him. It’s an unsettling acknowledgement, and he wants to fight his way out of his skin to escape them all.  

“I know,”

“I got something for you,” Jace adds then, reaching into an inside jacket pocket, pulling out crumpled sheets of paper; seeing Max’s recognizable scrawl makes Alec melt.  

He takes the papers carefully, flattens them out on his lap and traces over the hand-drawn _get well soon_ card that shows how much Max is still a kid, along with crudely-copied runes that Max has been researching for him, that he thinks might help.

A lump forms in his throat, and he has to swallow it away, and blink back a few tears, before he can look up at Jace, still swirling his thumb over the paper and feeling the crayon rubbing against his skin.

“When’d you get this?”

“This morning,” Jace smiles sadly, staring down at the papers himself. “Max is in Idris. I don’t know how he did it, but he snuck away from training and came on through. Gave me this. Left again before anyone knew he was gone. Says he wishes he could come visit, but—”

“I guess Mom’s put a stop to that,” Alec finishes for him, swallowing back the distaste in his mouth.

“Yeah,” Jace agrees with a sigh as he turns his gaze away. It’s got to be hard for Jace, Alec thinks as he watches him. Forever stuck on the outside despite how much he’s part of the family. Observing the dysfunction that is the Lightwood way of being, and probably not liking it much, but feeling torn about what he can and can’t say out loud.

“I’ll… send him a fire message,” Alec says, aching a little at the thought of Max, and they fall to awkward silence for a few minutes, neither of them knowing what to say.

“We’ll get through this,” Jace says again, soft though full of determination.

“Yeah,” Alec agrees, not voicing out loud his tacked on, _but how_?

“But you gotta… it’s probably not a good idea for you to be out there on your own right now,”

“Jace, I’m not a threat to—”

“I’m not saying you are,” Jace immediately fires back, flaring his fingers like he’s trying to placate him, “I’m just… we’ve got no idea what to expect with this. You’ve… the thing you need to… to stop you doing… whatever it is you’ll be doing if you can’t get—”

“Magnus’ll get it—”

“He will,” Jace agrees with a stiff nod. “The point is, until you’ve got that… until you’ve got that stuff in your system when you need it, we don’t know what’s gonna happen. If… I don’t know, Alec; if you need this thing like a—a drug or something, is one thing. But if… if you need the… if you need the venom ‘cos it’s… it’s a part of you now, or you need it—like, maybe without it you’re gonna get sick. Not addiction-sick, but—”

“You’re right,” Alec agrees, hating that he has to, “we don’t know what’s gonna happen. We don’t know if _that’s_ gonna happen. But I can’t… I can’t stay cooped up in here forever,”

“It’s been how many days—how many _hours_ , since you even woke up?” Jace retorts, and the emphasis on those hours Alec knows is intentional, to point out just how little time really has passed. 

“Not many,” he agrees with reluctance, biting back unkinder, unmeant retorts.

“Exactly,” Jace says, “so just… take it easy for a bit, okay? You’re not… it’s not gonna kill you to like… rest up for a while,”

Both of them wince at his choice of words, but they pretend like neither of them notice.

“It’s… frustrating,” Alec says then, and if that isn’t an understatement. The way this thing is boiling beneath his skin makes him want to yell, scream, scratch it out, dig for it even if he doesn’t know where he’s looking. It can’t be happening, it can’t, _it_ _can’t_ —  

“Alec,”

Alec closes his eyes to the softness in Jace’s voice, aware his flare of panic is likely to have rippled through Jace as well.  

“I’ll try,” he manages to say after a little while, though isn’t able to meet Jace’s eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s promising, so how can he even be confident it’s a promise he’s going to be able to keep?

“Can I… get you anything? Bring you anything?” Jace says then, and Alec knows it’s his way of telling him he needs to leave. Has work to do, more than likely, Alec adds to himself, along with a little wistful thinking about having something like his own duties to occupy his time.

What is he going to do if he can’t work for the only thing he’s ever worked for?

“You’d think as Head of the Institute, I’d be able to persuade—”

“Alec,” Jace says, and the word is laced with pain, and sorrow, “you know there’s… no way they’re gonna let someone addicted to… to anything, let alone anything _demon_ to—”

“I know,” Alec agrees, though it’s a reluctant, defeated sigh.

“We’re kind of… holding things over for now—have been, anyway. But now you’re awake and they realized you’re… you’re like _this_ —”

“Which is what, exactly?” Alec counters angrily, even though Jace has no more answers than he does, and even if it’s not Jace making any kind of decision preventing him from going back to the Institute. “We don’t know anything about what this is—”

“Which is sort of the problem,” Jace finishes for him, shifting awkwardly beside the bed, “we don’t know. We can’t know what’s gonna happen, or if—”

“You were saying?” Alec says, cutting him off, trying to rein the conversation back in. Jace didn’t just come to berate him for going for a run, that much is obvious now. And Alec watches Jace continue to shift in discomfort, his jaw set with determination against the things he doesn’t want to have to say out loud.  

“Alec,” he says, and Alec decides then that he doesn’t want to hear him after all. Doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of the softness of his voice, and what it might mean.

“Just… out with it,” he demands, bracing for what he suspects is already coming, and not sure how to feel about it.

“They’ve… you’re not Head of the Institute anymore, Alec,” Jace says then, and though it’s exactly what he’s expecting, it’s no easier for Alec to hear.

“So who is?”

“It kinda… it kinda reverted back to me,” Jace admits, very definitely avoiding his eyes, “though with the condition that whoever I appointed to take over this time—’cos they know I don’t even want it—is not… you again,”

“Would you have?” Alec asks, though it’s an unfair question. It doesn’t stop him wanting to know though. Or wondering why they'd bother to appoint Jace as Head anyway when they know he'd just give it away. _The Herondale surname_ , he thinks to himself with huff.

“Alec, I—”

“I get it,” he says, waving away the apology, telling himself that he’s not angry about this at all. He doesn’t have the right to be. “So who then?”

“Actually,” Jace sighs, shuffling awkwardly again, “I… think you’ll approve. I hope you will, anyway,”  

Alec thinks about the very short list of possibilities, and lets the reality sink in. “Lydia,”

“Lydia,” Jace confirms, and though Alec knows she’s the best choice, is even happy that she’s finally getting to Head an Institute, there’s a bittersweetness about it. She’s more of a rule follower than he is, and though he knows she’ll respect his efforts to make things transparent with the Downworld—knows she’s likely to keep that going without even needing to be asked—the fact remains that because of what he is now, the unknown threat his addiction poses, Lydia will find no loopholes to allow him to come back.  

Alec accepts that reality with a heavy weight on his gut, trying to buoy himself with the idea that maybe there’ll be a way round things in the future. It’s hard though, when the future that’s always been laid out for him blurs and fades before him. And even though that future has been forever altered—in a good way—by being with Magnus, Alec knows now with certainty that a huge part of his life is just… gone.

“Good,” he says in a daze, meaning it, of course, but unable to not feel like his life’s been ripped from his hands.

“Alec—”

“It’s good,” he repeats with a pinched smile, “I’ll... I guess I’ll talk to her at some point. When’s she starting?”

“Getting here tomorrow,”

That quick, Alec thinks, swallowing hard, wondering if he was always that replaceable. It’s doing nothing for that swirling, clenching, aching in his gut, and Alec can’t quite differentiate between that being his growing need for venom, or if it’s just his way of life being entirely snuffed out.

He smiles again anyway, nods as though that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.  

“Alec, I—”

“It’s good. When’s, uh… when’s Izzy due back?”

Izzy’s on a mission, had left for it the morning before he’d woken up. They’ve exchanged a couple of messages since, but they’ve yet to really talk. Alec’s not sure how ready he’s going to be for that.

“Tomorrow,”  

“Think… think maybe between the three of you—you, Izzy, Clary—you could maybe start… maybe start bringing over what’s left of my stuff?” Alec asks, already picturing the Institute-issued things that will no doubt now leave his possession. “I know there’s not much, and most of it’s already here, but—”

“We’ll figure it out,” Jace smiles, looking guilty and contrite all over again.

“Thanks, Jace,” Alec says, closing his eyes, and finding himself sinking back down on to the bed, defeated.

“You… you gonna be okay?”

The pointlessness of Jace’s question seems to hit him harder than it has done Alec. Alec can feel the tension in the air around him the second the words are out, and he smiles for it, waving a tired hand in dismissal of any apology.

“Sure,” he says, already closing his eyes and turning to bury his face in Magnus’ pillow, inhaling the scent of him there, and pleading with him to come back soon.

He listens as Jace shifts indecisively, hears his reluctant sigh. Thinks he catches a mumbled _goodbye_ as he closes the door behind him, then tells himself to go to sleep.

* * *

 

 


End file.
